Brother  's  mistake,. 

Harry  otillvrell 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


protfjer 


S>ttUtoeU  Cbtoarte 


>THER  SIMS' S 
MISTAKE 


SIMS' S 
MISTAKE 

By 

HARRY  STILLWELL  EDWARDS 

AUTHOR  OF 

"TWO  RUNAWAYS."   "HIS  DEFENSE" 
"ENEAS  AFRICANUS."   ETC. 


PUBLISHFD  BY 

THE  J.  W.  BURKE  COMPANY 
MACON,  GEORGIA 


COPYRIGHT.   1920 

BY 
THE  J.  W.   BURKE  COMPANY 


I  O 

1510 


brother  Sims' s 


Rev.  Joshua  Sims  reached  the 
Holly  Bluff  settlement  Saturday  after- 
noon,  near  the  close  of  summer,  with 
but  little  time  to  spare,  and  no  disposition  to 
preach  a  sermon.  He  was  due  at  Smyrna  upon 
the  following  morning,  where  he  was  under 
contract  to  join  four  couples  in  the  bonds  of 
wedlock,  and  at  the  annual  picnic  near  Smyrna, 
many  miles  farther,  on  Monday.  Four  fees 
were  involved  in  the  matrimonial  affair,  and 
Brother  Sims  yielded  to  no  man  in  his  respect 
for  a  fee,  be  it  possum,  pork,  or  pocket-money. 
But  the  Smyrna  picnic  was  the  chief  social 
function  in  church  circles,  and  the  glory  of 
that  picnic  was  its  barbecued  shotes;  for  be  it 
known  that,  while  the  legal  title  was  some 
times  doubtful,  there  was  ever  about  shotes — 
annually  contributed  for  picnic  day — a  flavor 
distinctive  and  delightful,  born  of  the  free 

[3] 


550842 


$?       BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE       $ 

range  of  swamps  that  abound  in  mass  and  the 
cool,  sweet  muscadine.  Death  might  perhaps 
have  kept  Brother  Sims's  physical  outfit  from 
arriving  upon  the  picnic-grounds  in  time  for 
dinner,  but  it  is  suspected  that  even  death 
would  not  have  deterred  his  astral  body,  if  it 
is  indeed  true  that  when  men  die  the  initial 
velocity  acquired  in  life  is  still  potent.  It 
would,  in  all  likelihood,  have  arrived 
promptly,  and  have  made  a  meal  of  the  astral 
shotes. 

Time  had  laid  only  gentle  hands  on  the 
great  itinerant  since  he  preached  his  famous 
sermon  and  embalmed  himself  in  the  memory 
of  admiring  Americans.  He  was  a  little 
thicker  through  waist  and  neck,  and  the  black 
ness  of  him  had  gained  from  the  fatness  of 
life  a  braver  luster.  These  were  the  only 
changes.  His  roving  eyes  still  flashed  their 
keen,  comprehensive  glances;  his  flow  of 
words  and  ideas  was  still  as  marvelous,  his 
wit  and  satire  as  brilliant,  his  invective  as 
terrific. 

The  indisposition  of  Brother  Sims  in  con- 

[4] 


%       BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE       % 

nection  with  the  expected  sermon  arose  from 
what  might  be  called  his  state  of  unprepared- 
ness  ;  for  the  habits  of  Brother  Sims  were  the 
chains  of  his  genius.  He  was  not  a  preacher 
of  discourses ;  he  was  no  defender  of  the  faith. 
He  was  mighty,  but  in  the  charge  only;  and 
the  devil,  to  him,  was  always  a  personal  one. 
If  anybody  could  withstand  Brother  Sims's 
charge,  he  might  defeat  him;  but  few,  even 
with  the  backing  of  the  arch-enemy  himself, 
would  attempt  such  a  thing.  To  preach  suc 
cessfully  and  effectively,  it  was  absolutely  nec 
essary  for  Brother  Sims  to  arrive  on  the 
grounds  at  least  twelve  hours  in  advance  of 
his  appointment;  and  twelve  were  always  suffi 
cient,  for  within  the  limit  he  would  move 
around  industriously,  and  from  the  zealous 
and  jealous  gather  enough  of  the  misdeeds  of 
his  flock  to  enable  him  to  locate  the  common 
enemy  and  fire  effective  volleys.  His  skill  in 
this  preparation  was  nothing  less  than  phe 
nomenal,  his  execution  something  more  than 
frightful.  Upon  this  occasion,  preparation 
being  impossible,  a  substitute  must  be  found ; 

m 


$      BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE      $ 

and  Brother  Sims  announced  an  "experience 
meeting." 

And  the  summons  went  forth.  By  their 
mysterious  channels  of  communication,  it  was 
known  within  a  few  hours  to  all  negroes  inter 
ested  that  Holly  Bluff  would  hold  an  experi 
ence  meeting. 

Darkness  descended.  To  the  humble  log 
church,  spacious,  but  dwarfed  by  the  great 
pines  that  sheltered  it — pines  erect  like  the 
pipes  of  a  mighty  organ,  and  murmuring 
sweetly  their  far,  faint  melodies,  hushed 
hymns  of  long  ago — came  the  scattered  flock. 
There  were  nervous  little  black  Tom,  guarded 
vigilantly  by  his  gigantic  consort  Tempy,  the 
one  with  a  fat  lightwood  torch,  the  other  with 
a  fat  umbrella ;  Henry  Clay  Thompson,  bent 
and  sad  since  emancipation  forced  him  to 
think;  black  Aleck,  with  the  fisherman's  her 
aldry  upon  his  Sunday  garments;  Ben  Evans, 
with  his  wife  Melviny;  and  Sal,  whose  "comin' 
through,"  some  years  previous,  left  scars  upon 
the  whole  congregation.  Besides  these  there 
were  a  hundred  others,  grave,  silent,  appre- 

[6] 


$      BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE      ffe 

hensive.  For  no  one  knew  the  workings  of  the 
great  man's  mind.  They  only  remembered 
where  their  own  bars  were  down,  and  past 
results. 

And  there  was  present  the  presiding  elder, 
Uncle  Lazarus.  The  eye  of  the  preacher 
rested  upon  him  the  moment  he  entered.  It 
followed  him  to  the  corner  from  which  the 
"Yes,  Lord!"  "Do  so,  Lord!"  "Oom  hoo!" 
"Face  the  light!"  and  "Amen !"  were  expected 
to  roll  promptly.  And  soon  the  keen  observer 
noticed  that,  however  often  the  attention  of 
that  eye  was  won  by  newcomers,  it  always  re 
turned  to  Uncle  Lazarus ;  and  soon  a  whisper 
went  around  which  focused  all  other  eyes 
upon  the  same  unfortunate  deputy  shepherd. 
It  was  understood  that  the  Evil  One  was  pres 
ent  in  Uncle  Lazarus,  and  was  to  be  assaulted. 

Ten  minutes  before  the  opening  hour,  the 
preacher  lifted  his  head  suddenly  and  asked 
in  a  cheerful  voice : 

"Brother  Lazarus,  how  many  members 
does  yer  claim  for  Holly  Bluff?" 

Brother  Lazarus  reflected  a  full  minute — 

[7] 


$?       BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE       $? 

not  to  recall  the  statistics,  but  to  avoid  any 
trap  that  might  be  laid  for  him;  for  let  it  not 
be  supposed  that  Lazarus  had  failed  to  ob 
serve  what  had  become  revealed  to  all  others. 
He  knew  Joshua  Sims  as  well  as  any  man 
living. 

"One  hunderd  an'  forty-fo',"  he  said  at 
length. 

"Yes,"  said  Brother  Sims,  encouragingly 
stroking  his  fat  chin  as  he  half  reclined  in  his 
chair;  and  then:  "How  many  did  yer  have 
las'  year,  Brother  Lazarus?"  The  voice  was 
now  musical  and  conciliating.  It  was  almost 
a  little  voluntary  upon  brotherly  love. 

"One  hunderd  an'  forty-eight." 

"Yes,"  said  Brother  Sims;  and  then  it  was 
plain  to  everybody  that  some  problem  had 
presented  itself;  for  his  face  gradually  lost 
its  placidity,  and  a  wave  of  trouble  rolled 
across  it.  "Did  yer  say  one  forty-eight, 
Brother  Lazarus?"  he  asked,  at  length. 
"Does  yer  mean  ter  say  fo'  of  my  sheep  done 
strayed?" 

[8] 


$       BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE       $? 

"Dead!"  said  Brother  Lazarus,  almost 
cheerfully.  "Thar  was — " 

"Ain't  thar  nobody  hyah,  Brother  Lazarus, 
ter  carry  de  Word  to  de  dyin'  ?  Is  all  de  sinful 
souls  of  men  'roun'  hyah  done  be'n  saved?" 

Lazarus  was  silent;  Brother  Sims  had  an 
nounced  the  line  of  his  forthcoming  remarks. 

The  congregation  were  now  doubly  happy. 
Not  only  were  their  apprehensions  stilled,  but 
there  was  in  the  situation  before  them  promise 
of  large  reward;  for  in  singling  out  Lazarus 
the  preacher  had  selected  a  most  able  oppo 
nent,  and  this  being  an  experience  meeting, 
Lazarus  would  have  a  chance. 

Finally,  the  late-comers  had  all  arrived,  and 
the  human  drift  that  had  hung  against  step 
and  lintel  floated  in.  The  shuffling  feet  grew 
still.  Then  spoke  the  Rev.  Joshua  Sims, 
gently  and  pathetically. 

"Dearly  beloved,"  he  said,  exactly  repro 
ducing  the  full  musical  tones  of  a  great  Geor 
gian  he  had  once  heard,  "hit  was  my  full  mind 
to  come  tergedder  wid  yer  dis  mornin' ;  but  de 
debble  took  Brother  Si  Evans  ter  Macon  on 

[9] 


$?       BROTHER  SIMS  S  MISTAKE      $ 

yestiddy,  an'  de  Messina  Church  money  went 
wid  'im.  An'  de  same  ole  enemy  of  mankind 
took  'im  ter  dwell  en  de  tents  of  de  wicked,  tel, 
if  it  hadn'  be'n  for  Cap'n  Bofay  an'  de  per- 
leece,  he  wouldn't  er  had  'nuff  er  dat  money 
lef '  ter  git  outer  de  jug  wid.  Hit  took  me  nigh 
enter  all  dis  blessed  day  laborin'  wid  dat  sin 
ful  soul  ter  fin'  out  dat  Messina's  new  church 
is  goin'  ter  stay  er-growin'  in  de  shape  of  live 
trees  fer  er  few  mo'  years  ter  come.  I  ain't  in 
no  mind,  dearly  beloved,  ter  preach  ter-night, 
an'  I  calls  yer  tergedder  fer  er  ole-time  'spe- 
rience  meetin'.  Br'er  Clay,  lead  us  ter  grace." 
And  Brother  Clay  led  them.  He  prayed 
for  unlimited  blessings  upon  the  lost  world, 
his  powerful  voice  rising  to  a  climax  of  emo 
tion  for  the  absent,  and  lapsing  almost  to  a 
whisper  when  he  came  back  to  those  at  hand. 
With  an  astute  perception  of  impending  diffi 
culty,  he  interpolated  very  skilfully  an  able 
defense  of  the  presiding  elder,  to  whom  he 
was  much  beholden.  "An',  O  Lord,"  he  said, 
"don't  jedge  er  man  too  hard  what's  got  er 
morgidge  so  big  hit  covers  er  mule,  er  sow,  an* 
[10] 


$?       BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE       $? 

er  bull  yearlin',  tel  yer  wouldn'  know  dey  was 
under  dere  ef  de  trough  warn't  empty  all 
time." 

"Oom  hoo!"  exclaimed  Lazarus,  encour 
agingly. 

"Don't  jedge  er  man  too  hard  what's  got 
fo'  chillen  too  little  ter  work  an'  too  big  ter  fill 
up  three  times  'twix'  sun-up  an'  sun-down; 
'sides  one  what's  a  widder  wid  two  more 
babies,  an'  es  wife's  mother  an'  es  own  ter  look 
atter!" 

"Hyah  'im,  Lord!"  said  Lazarus.  "He 
knows!" 

"Don't  jedge  er  man  too  hard  when  he's 
lak  dat,  fer  time  has  come  wid  him  when  hit's 
more  pow'ful  ter  save  bodies  den  ter  save 
souls ;  fer  ef  de  body  perish,  de  soul  hit  will 
sho'ly  git  erway  fum  us  all." 

"Listen  ter  de  good  brother,  dear  Lord!" 

"An'  so,  ef  it  comes  ter  de  p'inted  question, 
how  many  sheep  lef  in  de  fold,  look  at  dem 
he  done  save  when  de  grass  was  short,  an' 
don't  let  no  man  pester  him  'bout  fo'  ole 
wethers  what  die.  Gi'  'im  time,  an'  er  good 


$?       BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE       $? 

price  fer  cotton  dis  fall,  an'  trus'  'im  ter  mek 
up  for  los'  bodies  wid  foun'  souls." 

"Amen!"  said  Lazarus,  fervently,  and  a 
fairly  good  echo  supported  him. 

But  Brother  Sims  was  not  to  be  thwarted. 
He  gave  out  the  hymn : 

Are  there  any  of  the  old  sheep  lost  to-night? 

Are  there  any  of  the  old  sheep  lost? 

Are  there  any  of  the  old  sheep  lost  to-night? 

Better  ring  them  golden  bells; 

Ring  them  sweet  golden  bells; 

Ring  them  sweet  bells! 

Ring  them  sweet  golden  bells, 

And  call  the  old  sheep  home! 

A  long  and  solemn  silence  followed  the 
singing  of  this  hymn.  The  audience  were  ex 
pectant.  After  a  glance  at  Brother  Lazarus, 
who  seemed  little  disposed  to  lead  off,  the 
preacher  said: 

"Dearly  beloved,  what  have  de  Spirit  done 
for  you?" 

After  a  few  moments,  Chloe  arose  and  gave 
a  dramatic  recital  of  her  ucomin'  through," 
which  warmed  up  the  assemblage  to  a  spon 
taneous  burst  of  song;  and  then  little  Tom 

[12] 


$£       BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE       $? 

told  of  an  angel  meetmg  him  in  Swift  Creek 
swamp,  and  how  he  "breshed"  sin  from  him 
with  a  "gold-handle  bresh."  And  Tempy  had 
seen  a  manucomin'  down  the  mountain,  leavin' 
shinin'  footprints,"  and  bidding  her  keep  in 
the  straight  and  narrow  path.  Old  Peter,  with 
his  low  and  musical  voice,  confessed  that  he 
had  felt  a  hand  in  his,  one  night,  leading  him 
back,  when  he  was  "on  de  wrong  road."  And 
little  Manse  gave  a  recital  of  such  marvelous 
inconsistency  that  no  one  raised  a  hymn  when 
he  finished;  but  his  grandfather  offered  up  a 
fervent  prayer  for  liars  and  the  new  genera 
tion  of  "little  niggers."  Many  had  spoken, 
and  the  hours  passed,  when  the  critical  mo 
ment  arrived. 

The  Rev.  Joshua  Sims  realized  when  too 
late  that  he  was  at  a  great  disadvantage. 
Unless  Lazarus  should  give  in  his  experience 
first,  he  would  have  the  closing;  and  Lazarus 
had  a  rampant,  tropical  fancy  which,  once  set 
free,  was  an  uncertain  factor  in  any  experience 
meeting.  Besides  this,  Lazarus  possessed  a 
sense  of  humor,  and,  from  long  association 

[13] 


f?       BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE       $» 

with  Sims,  had  acquired  a  readiness  that  was 
not  discreditable  to  his  model;  moreover,  he 
knew  his  antagonist's  record. 

The  preacher  had  waited  patiently,  with 
the  hope  that  the  other  would  speak  first  and 
sacrifice  the  advantage  of  position;  but  that 
worthy  sat  with  his  chin  upon  his  hands,  and 
his  hands  crossed  over  his  stick,  absorbed  in 
thought.  Occasionally  he  nodded  his  head, 
but  whether  as  an  endorsement  of  some  senti 
ment  expressed,  or  in  acceptance  of  some 
thought  that  came  to  him,  will  never  be 
known.  Certain  it  is,  however,  that  once  his 
form  shook  with  emotion,  and  a  broad  smile 
flashed  upon  the  placid  vacancy  of  his  aged 
countenance ;  but  people  often  laugh  in  church 
from  emotion  not  allied  to  fun.  Still,  the 
preacher  did  not  like  that  silent  demonstra 
tion,  and  from  time  to  time  his  eyes  rested 
inquiringly  upon  the  elder.  When  the  last 
stretch  of  silence  had  remained  unbroken  until 
it  was  painful,  he  said  in  his  friendliest  tones  : 

"Brother  Lazarus,  can  you  shed  any  light 
on  de  darkness  of  dese  po'  souls  ter-night?" 

[14] 


$?       BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE       $> 

Lazarus  looked  sleepily  upon  him,  and  re 
plied  slowly : 

"Hold  de  candle,  Brother  Sims,  tel  I  look 
over  Jordan.  Mebbe  I  can  find  de  troof 

dere!" 

No  man  knew  better  than  Joshua  Sims  the 
strength  and  weakness  of  the  negro  character. 
Never  in  his  ministry  did  he  show  anger, 
never  did  he  abuse.  The  negro  fattens  on 
scolding,  and  while  excusing  himself  generally 
excuses  his  critic  also.  But  ridicule  is  torture. 
Laughing  faces  and  curious  eyes  turned  upon 
him  can  come  as  near  making  the  uneducated 
country  negro  a  sick  man  as  any  combination 
under  the  sun.  Sims  usually  crucified  his  vic 
tim  with  metaphor,  a  parable  or  story;  and 
when,  still  seated  in  his  broad,  deep  chair  in 
front  of  the  pulpit,  he  began  his  remarks,  the 
silence  of  the  room  was  as  the  silence  of  the 
gallows  when  the  sheriff  lays  hand  on  the 
lever. 

"Dearly  beloved,"  he  began,  "one  er  de 
riches'  white  men  what  ever  live  in  dis  kentry 
was  name'  Dives.  He  was  big  rich,  but  not  in 

[15] 


$?       BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE       $? 

grace.  He  come  of  bad  stock,  'cause  es  pa 
make  es  money  'fo'  de  war,  tradin'  niggers. 
After  he  done  dead,  es  son,  dis  hyah  same 
Dives  I'm  talkin'  'bout,  tek  es  money  an'  trade 
mules,  same  as  es  pa  trade  niggers;  an'  fusr 
thing  yer  know,  he  done  lay  by  er  thousan' 
million  dollars  in  de  'change  bank  yonner  in 
Macon,  an'  don't  ask  nobody  any  odds,  but 
des  set  esse'f  down  ter  live.  Now,  dere  was 
livin'  on  de  Dives  place  er  po'  ole  nigger  name' 
Lazy.  Dat  warn't  es  rale  name,  dearly  be 
loved  ;  it  was  des  er  nickname.  His  name  sho' 
'nuff  was  Lazarus." 

A  ripple  of  excitement,  followed  by  a  dis 
tinct  laugh  from  little  Manse,  drew  a  mild 
look  of  inquiry  from  the  speaker;  and  the 
presiding  elder  withered  the  guilty  party  with 
a  stare  of  such  ferocity  that  the  little  fellow's 
jaw  fell,  and  he  slid  along  his  bench  precipi 
tately,  and  finally  sat  upon  the  floor  with  a 
loud  thump.  When  he  had  arisen,  and  the 
excitement  had  subsided,  the  preacher  con 
tinued  : 

"Somehow,  dey  got  fust  ter  callin'  'im  Lazy- 

[16] 


$       BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE       $? 

urous,  an'  fum  dat  hit  worked  down  ter  Lazy. 
Hit  was  er  name  made  for  de  man,  an'  hit  fit 
'im  like  er  new  back-ban'  on  er  pasture-mule." 

Again  the  preacher  paused,  and  poured  a 
look  of  mild  rebuke  over  the  audience;  for 
several  women  were  hunching  one  another 
and  ducking  their  heads  in  silent  laughter. 
Their  mirth  died  out  when  they  encountered 
the  eyes  of  Brother  Lazarus. 

"OF  Unc'  Lazy  knocked  off  work,  one  year, 
when  es  young  Marse  Dives  corned  out  ter 
spen'  de  summer  on  es  place,  an'  hung  'roun'  de 
house.  But  law !  he  never  knowed  what  hard 
times  was  tell  he  got  ter  settin'  up  wid  dat 
white  man;  fer  hard  times  an'  Dives  trabble 
tergedder,  han'  en  han',  an'  when  yer  met  one 
yer  met  de  t'other.  Unc'  Lazy  lef  ev'ything 
ter  run  hitse'f  dat  year;  es  cotton  went  ter 
grass,  an'  de  lambs  of  de  church  got  scattered 
en  de  hills  an'  swamp — for  he  was  de  presidin' 
elder — an'  fo'  of  'em  died  plum'  dead!" 

"Dar,  now!"  said  Emanuel,  involuntarily; 
and  everybody  laughed — everybody  but  Laz 
arus,  who  photographed  upon  his  brain  the 


1?       BROTHER  SIMS  S  MISTAKE       f» 

rash  speaker's  image.  Joshua  Sims  wrinkled 
his  forehead  as  one  who  is  resolutely  patient 
under  annoyance,  and  waited  until  order  was 
restored. 

"Den,  dearly  beloved,  Unc'  Lazy  knowed 
what  hit  was  ter  put  es  trus'  en  princes.  He  got 
so  pow'ful  weak  an'  po',  he  was  hongry  all 
time;  an'  he  go  an'  set  esse'f  down  by  es 
Marse  Dives  while  'e  was  er-eatin' ;  an'  when 
dey  fetch  in  dat  barbecue  shote,  what  was  des 
er-layin'  on  de  dish,  smilin'  wid  es  eyes  shet, 
an'  weepin'  brown  gravy  down  enter  er  collar 
of  sweet  'taters — " 

uHush,  man,  hush!"  exclaimed  an  earnest 
voice  somewhere;  and  Emanuel,  reaching 
back,  shook  hands  with  Peter,  amid  subdued 
applause. 

" — When  he  seed  dat  shote,  an'  de  niggers 
rushin'  en  fum  de  kitchen  wid  hot  biscuit, 
b'iled  bacon,  fried  greens,  an'  big  hominy  an' 
cracklin'  bread,  an'  de  air  of  de  room  was  full 
er  misery,  es  heart  fairly  died,  an'  he  groan, 
des  so:  'Oh,  Marse  Dives,  I  so  hongry!'  An' 
dat  white  man  sorter  look  down  over  es  shoul- 
[18] 


%       BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE       $» 

der  to  whar  po'  ole  Lazy  was  er-settin'  on  de 
flo',  like  he  was  greatly  s'prised.  'Have  er 
crum','  'e  say,  des  so,  'have  a  crum' !'  An'  wid 
dat  'e  bresh  de  table  wid  er  backhanded  lick, 
an'  smile  at  de  gal  what  was  swingin'  de  pea 
cock  feathers,  'cause  'e  knowed  ole  Lazy  had 
ter  scramble  fer  dat  much  wid  de  setter  dog. 

"An'  den  come  mo'  trouble;  for  dat  white 
man  des  natchully  mean  ernuff  ter  drink  six 
glasses  of  'simmon  beer  right  'fo'  es  nigger's 
eyes,  an'  finish  wid  de  jug.  An'  when  po'  ole 
Lazy  say,  'Oh,  Marse  Dives,  I  so  thirsty,'  'e 
say,  'Go  down  ter  de  spring  branch,  backer  de 
house,  nigger,  an'  git  some  water.'  An'  den 
he  an'  de  nigger  wid  de  fly-bresh  laugh  erg'in. 
You  kin  always  'pend  on  de  fly-bresh  nigger 
ter  laugh. 

"An'  so  hit  went  on  all  dat  summer;  an'  po' 
ole  Lazy  git  so  thin,  when  'e  swaller  er  grape 
you  could  see  whar  hit  stopped;  but  es  Marse 
Dives  he  git  fat  tel  de  fall  er  de  year  come. 
Den,  one  day,  es  Marse  Dives  tek  sick,  an'  de 
docters  come,  an'  say  one  of  es  livers  is  out  er 
gear ;  an'  dey  cut  'im  open,  an'  tek  er  musca- 

[19] 


$*      BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE      «f 

dine  seed  outer  es  vermyfuge  pendulum,  ter 
be  in  de  fashion.  Den,  while  dey  was  threadin' 
de  needle  ter  sew  'im  up  erg'in,  es  little  soul 
climbed  outer  hits  nes'  like  a  young  jay-bird, 
an'  hit  kerplunk  'way  down  yonner  en  de  lake 
er  fire,  'fo'  dey  knowed  it  was  gone." 

"Amen!"  said  Peter,  fervently,  and  then 
stirred  uneasily,  because  the  eyes  of  Lazarus 
sought  him. 

"Well,"  continued  the  preacher,  uden  Unc' 
Lazy  fairly  perish  fum  de  face  of  de  yarth, 
an'  make  only  ha'f  a  load  fer  de  angel  what 
come  down  ter  fetch  'im  up ;  for  dere  warn't 
nuthin'  seeyus  charged  erg'inst  de  ole  man 
'cep'in'  es  laziness,  an'  hit  was  borned  en  'im. 
An'  somep'n'  had  ter  be  done  ter  make  Dives 
feel  bad,  outside  er  de  burnin'.  So  de  good 
angel  sail  off  wid  Unc'  Lazy;  an'  when  he  got 
up  to  whar  Peter  had  de  gates  cracked,  Peter 
up  an'  say,  'I  think,'  sez  'e,  des  so,  'fum  de  way 
dat  po'  soul  holds  esse'f,  hit  mus'  sho'ly  be 
Unc'  Lazy.'  An'  de  angel  say,  'Oom  hoo!' 
Den  Peter  say,  sorter  puzzled-like,  'Who 
gwine  tend  Mm,  chile?'  An'  de  angel  'e  don't 
[20] 


IF       BROTHER  SIMS  S  MISTAKE       $? 

know.  Den  Peter  stick  es  keys  back  en  es  belt, 
an'  say,  'Dat  nigger  b'long  ter  de  tribe  er 
Ham,  an'  Aberham  is  'sponsible  for  'im.  Go 
tek  'im  ter  de  ole  man,  my  son,  an'  tell  'im  de 
cusses  an'  chickens  sometimes  come  home  ter 
roost  tergedder.'  An'  de  angel  come  ercross 
ole  man  Aberham  settin'  under  er  fig-bush, 
smokin'  es  pipe,  an'  he  do  like  de  angel  tell 
'im." 

By  this  time  Joshua  Sims's  audience  had 
recovered  from  their  spasm  of  solemnity,  and 
were  laughing  as  only  plantation  negroes  can 
laugh.  To  add  to  the  interest  of  the  situation, 
Lazarus,  under  the  mimicry  of  the  preacher 
and  his  biting  satire,  had  been  settling  in  his 
seat  until  his  head  was  below  the  level  of  their 
gaze.  The  curious,  back  of  the  first  row,  could 
only  behold  him  by  rising  and  peeping  over 
the  shoulders  in  front,  and  this  they  did  when 
ever  a  new  point  was  made,  greatly  adding  to 
his  distress.  The  preacher  had  not  looked 
toward  his  victim,  but  his  eyes  brightened 
with  the  applause,  and  he  rose  to  greater 
heights. 

[21] 


"Well,  dearly  beloved,  Aberham,  warn't 
no  man  ter  go  back  on  es  kin ;  an'  yet  he  was 
er  little  bit  'shamed  fer  folks  ter  see  'im.  So 
'e  des  open  de  bosom  of  es  puffy  shirt — one  of 
dese  hyah  neggigent  shirts  de  town  boys  wear 
out  ter  picnics — an'  'e  say  ve'y  kindly  ter  de 
angel,  'Drap  'im  en  dere,  my  frien' ;  drap  'im 
en  dere.  I'll  tend  'im  tel  he  rests  up  an'  gits 
es  secon'  win'.'  An'  de  angel  drapped  'im,  an' 
Father  Aberham  comb  es  whiskers  er  little 
wid  es  lef  han,  an'  look  'roun'.  An'  ain't  no 
body  know  what  done  happen. 

"But  hit  warn't  ve'y  long,  dearly  beloved, 
'fo'  Unc'  Lazy,  who  done  gone  right  ter  sleep, 
was  waked  up  by  hyahin'  er  voice  he  knowed 
risin'  outer  de  depths  like  er  man  talkin'  fum 
er  well,  sayin',  'Oh,  Father  Aberham,  I  so 
hongry!'  An'  Father  Aberham  open  es  eye 
an'  say  ter  ole  Lazy,  'Elder,  hyah  dat?'  An* 
ole  Lazy  say,  'Oom  hoo  !  I  hyah  'im.'  Den  sez 
Father  Aberham,  'Well,  well!  Why  n't  yer 
talk  back?'  Wid  dat  de  shirt-front  sorter  stir 
er  little,  an'  ole  man  Lazy  sing  out,  'Have  er 
crum'.'  An'  Father  Aberham  laugh  tel  es 

[22] 


$      BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE      $ 

whiskers  trimble.  But  Dives  come  erg'in :  'Oh, 
Father  Aberham,  I  so  thirsty!'  An'  ole  Lazy 
sing  out  erg'in,  'Go  down  ter  de  spring  branch, 
back  er  de  house,  honey,  an'  try  some  water  1' 
An'  Father  Aberham  shake  all  over,  an'  say 
ter  esse'f,  'Sho'ly  dis  is  er  merry  dog!' 

"But  bimeby  Dives  give  a  mighty  shout 
what  wake  up  ev'ybody:  'Oh,  Father  Aber 
ham,  I  do  beseech  yer,  let  Unc'  Lazy  come 
down  hyah  an'  des  so  much  as  wet  de  end  of 
my  tongue  wid  one  drap  er  water!'  Well, 
dearly  beloved,  dat  was  somethin'  else;  dat 
was  work,  an'  de  los'  of  er  fat  job.  Dat  puffy 
shirt  stirred  pow'fully  like  er  sack  wid  er  pig 
in  hit.  De  front  flied  open,  an'  out  pops  ole 
Lazy  like  a  red-headed  woodpecker  fum  er 
hole  in  er  tree.  He  mek  er  horn  outer  es  two 
han's,  an'  shout  back  in  mighty  anger:  'I'd  see 
you  in  hell,  firs' !  Let  de  po'  white  trash 
burn!'  ses  he,  curlin'  up  ergin  in  his  warm 
nes'.'  " 

The  laughter  that  followed  this  was  pro 
longed  many  minutes,  and  was  a  tribute  not 
only  to  the  skill  and  power  of  the  preacher, 

03] 


tf      BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE      $? 

but  to  Lazarus;  for  the  ingenious  turn  given 
at  the  close  made  him  a  sort  of  hero,  and  the 
laugh  was  at  his  wit,  not  at  him. 

Gradually,  under  the  realization  of  this 
fact,  he  assumed  an  upright  position,  and  his 
courage  returned.  He  arose  gravely,  and, 
crossing  over,  shook  hands  with  the  preacher, 
and  resumed  his  seat.  It  was  a  happy  demon- 
tration. 

"Look  out,  now!"  said  little  Manse,  "look 
out  for  Unc'  Lazarus!"  And  this  clearly 
voiced  warning  stilled  the  tumult  and  turned 
all  eyes  upon  the  elder.  Perceiving  his  own 
danger,  Joshua  Sims  gave  out  the  doxology; 
but  Lazarus  waved  his  hand,  and  no  one 
raised  the  tune.  He  sat  in  silent  reverie  until 
the  strain  upon  the  audience  became  almost 
painful;  then  he  said,  imitating  Joshua  Sims's 
voice  perfectly: 

"Dearly  beloved,  you  have  hyard  fum 
Brother  Sims.  Now  let  er  po'  old  man  hold 
er  candle  for  yo'  wand'rin'  feet  erbout  er 
minute!" 

"Amen!"    "Sho'ly!"    "Yes,  Lord!"     Such 

[24] 


$      BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE      $ 

were  the  responses  that  came  to  him;  and 
assured  by  these,  he  began  in  a  low,  earnest 
voice : 

"I  was  er-settin'  down  yonner  on  de  san'- 
bar  t'other  side  de  pond,  las'  week,  studyin' 
how  I  could  save  souls,  dearly  beloved,  an' 
gether  my  crop  same  time,  when  somep'n' 
happen  dat  'stonish  me.  I  look  up,  an'  yon 
ner  come  er  man  walkin'  wid  what  look  like 
er  kivered  umberella."  To'  I  done  seed  Mm 
good  I  say,  'Huh!  da'  's  Mister  Ed'ards  come 
back  fum  de  salt  water,  an'  he  goin'  ter  ques- 
hum  we  alls  now  'bout  what  dese  hyah  niggers 
be'n  doin'  while  'e  gone';  an'  I  sorter  brace 
myse'f  ter  tell  'im  de  troof,  when  I  see  hit 
warn't  'im,  but  fum  de  way  he  was  gittin'  'bout 
under  de  limbs  an'  bushes,  look  like  Major 
Crump,  what  sometimes  comes  er-fishin'.  An' 
den  I  say,  seein'  'im  straighten  up  an'  rear 
back  as  'e  walk,  steppin'  high :  'No,  dat  mus' 
be  Marse  Nat  Winship!'  Den  I  say,  'No, 
sho'ly,  fum  de  way  he  hoi'  es  head  an'  tote  dat 
umberella,  hit's  de  big  Jedge,  an'  'e  out  er- 
lookin'  for  moonshiners.'  Wid  dat  I  sorter 

[25] 


«|?      BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE      $ 

laugh,  'cause  I  knowed  how  col'  de  trail  was 
'round'  dere.  But  hit  warn't  de  jedge ;  hit  was 
er  strange  man,  dress  ter  kill,  an'  makin'  esse'f 
free  wid  ev'ything  like  'e  done  own  hit.  He 
come  an'  stood  on  de  san'-bar,  an'  look  erbout, 
sorter  whistlin'  easy  ter  esse'f,  an'  not  bother- 
in'  'bout  me.  Bimeby  he  strips  de  kiver  off  dat 
thing  en  es  han',  an'  I  see  't  warn't  no  umber- 
ella,  but  look  like  one  er  dese  hyah  j'inted 
rods;  an'  in  erbout  two  minutes  he  done 
screwed  hit  tergedder,  put  in  er  little  wheel, 
run  out  er  line,  an'  was  tyin'  on  er  hook.  I 
look  ter  see  what  he  goin'  ter  fish  wid,  but 
dere  warn't  no  sign  of  er  bait-gourd,  an'  I  say, 
'Dis  hyah  some  newfangle'  thing  ter  fool  dem 
trout,  an'  Mister  Ed'ards  goin'  ter  hoi'  me 
'sponsible.'  Sez  I,  Til  des  step  up  an'  brace 
'im  one  time,  anyhow' ;  an'  so  I  walk  'roun'  'im 
tel  my  shadder  hit  'em  en  de  eye,  an'  I  say, 
ve'y  perlite :  '  'Scuse  me,  boss,  but  I  'spec'  you 
done  bought  dis  place,  ain't  yer?' 

"Wid  dat  he  smile  little  bit,  an'  say,  'No, 
Unc'  Lazarus;  but  I  own  most  er  de  niggers.' 

"Wid  dat  I  natchully  fell  back,  'cause  dat 
[26] 


$       BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE      $ 

man  know  my  name,  an'  es  smile  gi'  me  er  chill 
on  my  back.  When  I  git  my  breath,  I  walk 
'roun'  de  t'other  side,  an'  say  erg'in,  '  'Scuse 
me,  sah,  'scuse  me;  but  dis  hyah  place  is 
posted!' 

"Wid  dat,  dearly  beloved,  he  smile  ter 
esse'f  erg'in,  as  he  fix  on  es  hook,  an'  'e  say, 
4 Ah!'— des  so— 'ah!  Well,  dat's  all  right,  ole 
man;  I'm  posted  merse'f.' 

"An'  wid  dat  he  sorter  look  back  over  es 
shoulder  at  me  an'  smile  erg'in;  an'  'fo'  God, 
de  col'  chill  an'  de  hot  chill  chase  one  ernudder 
up  an'  down  my  back  tel  I  fa'rly  staggered, 
puffec'ly  pluralized  wid  'stonishment.  Fum 
dat  time  I  couldn't  do  nothin'  but  stan'  by  an' 
hoi'  my  jaw. 

"Den  dat  white  man  start  out  ter  fish.  He 
tek  er  little  red  ribbin  fum  es  hat,  an'  twis'  hit 
'roun'  es  hook,  an'  flung  hit  erway  out  yonner 
in  de  pond.  Dearly  beloved,  I  look  down 
dere  den,  an'  seem  like  ter  me  hit  warn't 
water  but  air  I  see,  hit  was  so  clear.  Look 
like  de  worl'  was  in  de  pond,  an'  I  could  see  all 
sorts  er  souls  swimmin'  'roun'  er  layin'  up  en 


1?       BROTHER  SIMS  S  MISTAKE       <jj> 

de  shadder  of  de  lily-pads.  'Mongst  dat  crowd 
I  seen  little  Manse  wid  er  mouf  like  er  catfish, 
an'  Aunt  Chloe  an'  Manuel  an'  Peter  an'  Tat- 
tlin'  Tilly,  an'  er  heap  more.  An',  dearly  be 
loved,  I  seen  down  dere  Brother  Sims,  layin' 
up  erg'inst  er  log,  wid  er  white  skin  drawed 
over  es  eye,  payin'  no  'tention  ter  de  crowd 
swimmin'  'roun'.  'Spec'  he  was  studyin'  up 
dat  'sperience  wid  Dives  an'  ole  Lazy." 

As  the  rippling  merriment  of  his  hearers 
broke  into  a  tumultuous  laugh,  Lazarus 
smlied  grimly. 

"Well,  when  dat  hook  wid  de  ribbin  drap 
down  in  dat  crowd,  hit  drap  right  front  er 
Brother  Sims's  nose;  but  he  didn't  pear  ter 
know  hit  was  dere.  Lots  er  dem  po'  souls 
started  for  it;  but  Chloe  got  dere  fust,  an' 
smiled  hit  right  enter  her  mouf.  An'  de  gem- 
man  gi'  es  pole  er  flip,  an'  nex'  minute  Chloe 
was  flutt'rin'  in  de  san'  behind  'im.  He  des 
twis'  de  hook  out  'er  mouf,  an'  say,  des  so: 
'Yer  can  allus  ketch  er  country  nigger  like 
dat — wid  er  ribbin'." 

A  commotion  in  Chloe's  neighborhood 
[28] 


%      BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE      $ 

showed  where  the  shell  had  burst.  Brother 
Sims  arose  with  dignity. 

"Brother  Lazarus,"  he  said  slowly,  "is  yer 
makin'  up  er  story  on  dis  occasion,  or  is  yer 
tellin'  er  'sperience?  'Cause — " 

"Tellin*  er  'sperience,  Brother  Sims;  same 
sort  er  'sperience  ole  Unc'  Lazy  had.  An'  hit's 
too  late  now  ter  back  down.  Face  de  light, 
Brother  Sims;  face  de  light!" 

Brother  Sims  resumed  his  seat,  while  those 
in  the  rear  of  the  room  crowded  forward 
eagerly. 

"An'  den,  dearly  beloved,  dat  white  man 
re'ch  back  in  de  bresh  behind  'im  an'  find  er 
little  round  cucumber,  an'  put  hit  on  es  hook, 
sayin',  wi  des  eye  on  Brother  Sims,  'I  reck'n 
dis'll  fetch  'im.'  Hit  warn't  bigger'n  er  hick'ry 
nut,  but  soon  as  hit  teched  de  water  hit  look 
like  er  forty-pound  melon.  Hit  fell  right  in 
front  er  Brother  Sims;  an'  all  'e  do  was  ter 
let  er  bubble  come  right  up  fum  es  nose  an' 
bus'  on  top  er  de  water,  like  'e  was  sayin',  'Yer 
can't  fool  me.'  But  Manse,  little  Manse,  lyin' 
little  Manse,  des  wiggle  esse'f  for'd  an'  open 

[29] 


S§?      BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE      $ 

es  big  mouf.  To'  yer  could  bat  yo'  eyes, 
Manse  was  gapin'  on  de  san',  swearin'  he 
didn't  steal  fum  «o-body." 

At  the  mention  of  watermelons,  Manse, 
who  had  recently  had  trouble  in  Lazarus's 
patch,  glided  through  the  crowd  and  out  of 
the  door.  When  his  punishment  arrived  no 
eye  could  find  him.  He  appeared  afterward 
at  the  window,  contributing  a  horse-laugh 
from  time  to  time.  Lazarus  continued: 

"  'I  think,'  said  de  gemman,  Td  er  fetched 
'im  but  for  dat  big-mouf  horny-head  gittin'  de 
bait.  But  yer  goin'  ter  hyah  fum  'im  dis  time.' 
An'  wid  dat  'e  put  on  er  little  bottle  er  whisky 
what  holds  er  sample,  an'  gi'  hit  er  curl  in  de 
air;  but  when  hit  teched  de  water,  Brother 
Sims  he  still  ersleep;  an'  hit  didn'  mek  no  dif 
ference  ef  'e  was  erwake,  'cause  Brother 
Manuel  come  fum  somewhar  en  de  moss  wid 
er  rush,  an'  hit  dat  bottle  so  hard  he  run  plum' 
ergroun'.  De  gemman  kick  'im  high  up  onter 
de  san',  an'  say,  'Ef  I'd  knowed  Manuel  was 
down  dere  I'd  er  run  'im  off  wi'  de  pole,  'cause 
nobody  can  beat  Manuel  gittin'  ter  er  bottle 

[30] 


iS      BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE      $ 

er  whisky.'  But  by  dis  time  Brother  Sims  done 
waked  up  an'  was  swimmin'  'round'  en  er  ring. 
De  gemman  didn't  have  nair  'nother  bottle, 
so  'e  had  ter  try  er  new  bait.  He  des  shek  er 
bush,  an'  er  young  bird  drapped  down.  'Putty 
good  chicken  en  de  water!'  'e  say,  des  so,  an' 
'e  strung  'im  on  es  hook.  He  drap  dis  right 
'fo'  Brother  Sims's  nose ;  but  hit  only  made  er 
little  shiver  run  down  es  side-fins,  an'  'e  back 
off  suspicious-like.  Nobody  can't  fool  Brother 
Sims  when  hit  comes  ter  chicken.  But  hit 
fooled  ole  Peter.  He  landed  en  de  san'  wid 
de  chicken  en  es  mouf  an'  de  legs  stick'n'  out 
through  es  gills. 

"An'  so  hit  went.  Dat  man  des  stan'  up 
dere  an'  ketch  mighty  night  de  whole  Holly 
Bluff  crowd;  an'  hit  made  my  heart  ache, 
'cause  dere  was  some  good  folks  dere.  But 
Brother  Sims  still  keep  er-swimmin'  'roun'  an' 
1roun',  an'  lay  low;  an'  den  de  gemman  stop 
an'  scratch  es  head  er  little;  an'  den  he  smile 
ter  esse'f.  He  tek  er  little  yaller  mud,  an'  roll 
hit  an'  twis'  hit  tel  hit  look  like  er  doll.  He 
stick  some  white  rocks  en  de  mouf  for  teef,  an' 

[30 


$       BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE       <f 

two  huckleberries  for  eyes,  an'  fum  er  bush 
whar  black  sheep  be'n  scratch  esse'f  he  pull 
some  wool  an'  stick  hit  en  de  doll's  head.  Den 
'e  tear  up  es  red  handk'chi'f ;  an'  'fo'  yer  could 
bat  yer  eye  he  done  dress  dat  doll  ter  kill !  I 
was  er-lookin'  at  'im  wid  my  mouf  wide  open. 
Done  dress  dat  doll  ter  kill !  An'  'e  snatch  up 
er  little  dry  grass,  an'  plat  er  hat;  an'  knock 
down  er  hummin'-bird,  what  come  erlong,  wid 
es  pole,  an'  put  'im  on  de  far  side  er  de  hat; 
an'  des  stretch  out  es  han'  an'  say : 

'Ki,  yi !  Kee,  yee ! 
Butterfly,  come  ter  me!' 

An'  er  big  yaller  butterfly  come  an'  balance 
esse'f  on  es  finger,  pumpin'  wid  es  wings;  an' 
he  sot  'er  on  de  nigh  side.  All  time  'e  doin' 
dis  'e  singin'  sof  ter  esse'f.  Den  he  hoi'  out 
es  han'  wid  de  doll  stan'in'  en  hit,  an'  'e  say, 
'How  is  dat,  ole  man?'  An'  I  say,  'Sho'ly  you 
is  er  king  en  er  circus !' 

"Well,  dearly  beloved,  'e  put  dat  doll  on 
es  hook,  an'  look  at  me.  'What  yer  bet  dis 
time,  ole  man  ?'  'e  say,  des  so.  An'  I  say,  'Gi' 

[32] 


%       BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE       $? 

me  yo'  side  de  game,  an'  I  bet  er  million !  He 
laugh,  an'  gi'  de  bait  er  whirl,  dearly  be 
loved—" 

"Brother  Lazarus,"  said  Joshua  Sims,  ris 
ing  and  drawing  an  old-fashioned  silver  watch 
from  his  fob  with  dignified  formality,  "  'fo' 
yer  fling  dat  line — I  hates  ter  break  inter  yer 
'sperience — but  hit's  er  long  way  ter  Smyrna, 
an'  I  better  be  goin' !" 

"No,  Brother  Sims;  yer  can't  start  tel  de 
moon  comes  up,  an'  hit  ain't  come  up  yit!  He 
gi'  de  bait  er  whirl,  dearly  beloved — " 

"Brother  Lazarus,  des  er  minute  'fo'  yer 
fling  dat  line — " 

"He  gi'  dat  bait  er  whirl,  dearly  beloved, 
'way  over  de  water  ter  drap  in  de  right  place ; 
but  hit  never  drapped.  Brother  Sims  made 
er  rush  an'  met  hit  en  de  air.  He  broke  water, 
an'  landed  erway  up  de  bank,  wid  de  bait  an' 
hook  an'  fo'  foot  er  line  out  er  sight  en  es 
mouf.  An'  de  noise  'e  made  was  like  de  flop 
of  er  twenty-foot  plank." 

So  great  was  the  confusion  at  this  point  the 
voice  of  Lazarus  was  drowned  out.  Brother 

[33] 


«|?       BROTHER  SIMS'S  MISTAKE       $? 

Sims  was  down  in  the  crowd,  working  toward 
the  door,  but  purposely  obstructed  by  the 
laughing  members  of  his  flock.  Lazarus  stood 
in  a  chair  and  shouted : 

uAn'  den  dat  white  man  turn  an'  look  at 
me  wid  one  eye  shet;  an'  es  fine  shoes  an' 
clothes  drapped  off,  an'  es  hoofs  come  out,  an' 
es  fishin'-pole  turn  ter  er  forked  tail,  an'  I 
knowed  'im  fer  do  Ole  Man.  Oh,  Brother 
Sims!  Face  de  light,  brother;  face  de  light!" 

The  crowd  took  up  the  shout.  Brother 
Sims  turned  at  the  door,  with  a  last  effort  at 
dignity. 

"I  knowed  him  den  for  de  Ole  Man,"  con 
tinued  Lazarus,  shouting  above  the  din,  "what 
made  Dives  call  fer  water.  Face  de  light, 
Brother  Sims!" 

Brother  Sims  was  shaking  hands  and  get 
ting  out. 

"De  moon  is  er-risin',  Brother  Lazarus,  an' 
hit's  er  long  way  down  ter  Smyrna." 

The  laughing  crowd  followed  him  out,  and 
their  voices  filled  the  piney  woods.  As  they 
separated  toward  the  cabin  lights  far  and 

[34] 


?       BROTHER  SIMSS  MISTAKE 

near,  suddenly,  away  off  in  the  shadows,  the 
rich  barytone  of  Manse  came  floating  back, 
as  clear  as  a  bell: 

Play  on  yo'  harp,  little  David; 

Hally-lu,  hally-lu! 
Little  David,  play  on  yo'  harp; 

Hally-lu  1 

This  ringing  chorus,  always  a  challenge  for 
the  improvisors,  was  instantly  caught  up  in 
every  direction.  As  it  died  out  there  was  a 
pause,  and  again  Manse's  voice  was  heard: 

Debbie  he  stan'  on  er  nee'  er  Ian', 

An'  he  fish  for  de  soul  of  er  mortal  man. 

Once  more  the  ready  voices  united : 

Play  on  yo'  harp,  little  David; 

Hally-lu,  hally-lu! 
Little  David,  play  on  yo'  harp; 

Hally-lu! 

And  then  little  Manse  settled  a  debt  and 
made  a  name  for  himself;  for  to  the  silence 
that  followed  he  gave  these  lines: 

Debbie  got  er  fryin'-pan  settin'  on  de  burner, 

Lay  low,  Br'er  Sims,  when  yer  git  down  ter  Smyrna! 

Play  on  yo'  harp,  little  David. 

And  long  the  laughing  vokes  echoed  in  the 
pines. 

[35] 


(Complete  ^Price  JPist 


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